by M.J. Iuppa
I expected never to see him again, but one day he appeared at my new place with some belongings I had left behind: bottle of fig vinegar, two bars of sandalwood soap, my collection of cigar labels, and my still in wrapper Reach toothbrush. I was surprised to see him and these things I had forgotten. We talked a bit, and I could feel us falling back to the time and place of our argument, but never mentioned the fallout. He moved his family out West to live in snow country. I married a man who wasn’t married. We could still talk about anything – even laugh about it all – but we said nothing when we caught ourselves looking hard at each other – knowing the moment would pass.
M.J. Iuppa is the Writer-in-Residence and Director of the Arts Minor program at St. John Fisher College.